


hold me now (don't keep your distance)

by pradacandy



Series: pregnant allison [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alpha Vanya Hargreeves, F/F, Happy Ending, Omega Allison Hargreeves, Pregnancy Kink, Sibling Incest, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 09:56:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20274046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pradacandy/pseuds/pradacandy
Summary: Ever since her one-night stand with her alpha sister, Allison's felt a little... different.





	hold me now (don't keep your distance)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [7r33h0u53r3fu633](https://archiveofourown.org/users/7r33h0u53r3fu633/gifts).

> inspired by a prompt on umbrellakink!

She’d been dreaming about Vanya again.

Allison didn’t even want to open her eyes. She willed herself to hold on to the feeling of sleep, even though it was practically impossible now that she’d woken up. She just—

It had gone like this. A couple weeks ago, maybe two months ago, she’d gone back east to visit Vanya. She’d never particularly felt anything for her alpha sister before, but they’re gone to this restaurant, and Vanya had looked actually nice and presentable for a change, and before Allison had known it she was in Vanya’s bed, flat on her back, Vanya’s cock pounding into her. Everything had happened so fast. And it had been good, too, the kind of good sex that seemed to radiate pleasure into every part of her body, and, well, what else was she going to dream about? Her career? Her lonely house?

So sue her. She’d had a one-night stand with her sister. But could anyone really blame her? She was lonely and horny and Vanya had smelled good. The sex, Allison didn’t regret.

The morning-after, she did.

Allison rolled over. There was nothing about the encounter she remembered more vividly than the feeling of waking up in Vanya’s cold bed. Sitting up, shivering— _naked_ and shivering— and seeing the note on the nightstand:

_I’m probably going to be at rehearsal when you wake up, and won’t be back until you have to leave. Feel free to charge me for the taxi._

Allison bit her lip. She hadn’t felt quite the same since that night; that morning. It had gotten better: the first night she was home, she’d sat down in the hallway on the floor right next to her suitcase and cried. The second night, she’d fought off the tears. By the seventh or eighth or maybe more like the twentieth, she didn’t need to fight anymore. But she felt a little strange whenever she remembered Vanya, whenever she dreamed about her, like her hormones were off-kilter or her body was trying to turn itself inside out. Allison grimaced. That was a gross image.

But in any case, she was just being delusional. She had to get over the whole thing. One night with her sister wasn’t the be-all or end-all of anything. Everything was fine, Allison thought, staring up at the beige ceiling. Let it be so.

There was another thing, too. Allison tried not to think about it when she got dressed, but it was hard to see a full-length mirror and not examine her body in it. She’d put on her bra— was it her imagination, or was it cutting into her flesh a little tighter than it used to?— and she had her favorite old pair of panties on, and she yanked her pants up her legs. God, they were starting to get tight, weren’t they?

Allison looked over at herself in the mirror and did a double-take.

_That_ couldn’t be right.

She turned to the side, squinting at the front of her body in profile. That was definitely a curve to her stomach, pushing out over the edge of her hips. Allison cupped it with one hand. Had she eaten something weird? She didn’t feel bloated or anything— a little nauseous, maybe, but that was all. 

That belly definitely hadn’t been there the last time she’d done a photoshoot.

Allison grimaced as she did up the button of her slacks. Maybe she needed to work out at the gym more or something.

She went to the gym every fucking day. She called up her favorite personal trainer, the one who’d worked with her on the set of the movie where she’d played a mountain climber, and they set up a training regimen for her that pushed Allison hard enough that during those excruciating, sweaty hours, she couldn’t even think about how it wasn’t working. Every evening, she thanked the personal trainer, double-checked that they were booked for the next day, and drove home, uncomfortably aware of the way her stomach was starting to inch forward against her thighs when she sat down.

“It’s no big deal,” she told herself when she finally got into her apartment and closed the door. “Bodies change all the time.”

Bodies change all the time. Bodies change all the time. She made her way to the bathroom, trying not to think about the way her body swayed with the tiny shift in her center of gravity, resisting the urge to run her hands all over her stomach. When she kicked the bathroom door shut, she stripped off her blouse and unzipped her slacks, kicking them off onto the floor, so she stood in only her bra and underwear in front of the mirror.

She was getting bigger.

She had to face it. Allison ran her finger along the red indentations where her slacks had cut into the soft underside of her stomach, and then she turned to see herself in profile. Her belly pushed out roundly under her breasts and she couldn’t give in anymore, she palmed herself with both hands, soothing the angry red marks and feeling how much of her there was. She was tight and heavy, her skin still soft, but there was definitely something going on.

As she watched herself in the mirror— God, she hadn’t even noticed she was touching it absent-mindedly now, patting her belly like it was some kind of pet— she felt something wet trickle down the inside of her thigh.

That was _sick._

She looked up at herself in the mirror. Her face looked stricken, even underneath the makeup. Nothing could hide her belly, and nothing could hide the heat that was building up in her groin, pooling slick between her labia, dripping down her legs. Allison whimpered. She arched her back and stuck her stomach out, so there was more of a curve. She was so close, her brain was hazed over with lust like the windows of a car fogging up from the inside— she cupped the curve of her belly with one hand and desperately stuck her fingers between her labia with the other, using them to rub her own slick against her clit. She shut her eyes. She needed more. She needed to be split open along a cock, stretched with a knot, she needed gentle hands on her belly— she was hot and panting and round and messy and she needed someone cool and collected and in control.

_Please,_ she thought. _Please, Alpha—_

Allison’s eyes flew open. The realization hit her just before her orgasm, and as her body seized up with the wave of pleasure, the shame followed close on its heels.

She needed to get to a drugstore ASAP.

“So all you need to do is expose the stick to a urine sample, and wait for the lines to appear,” the cashier said brightly, turning over the plastic box in her hands and scanning it with a gentle beep. “Have any questions for the pharmacist?”

Allison shifted. She didn’t know there would be this much talking involved in running to the store to buy a pregnancy test. Apparently some alphas just couldn’t leave a vulnerable omega alone, even if the omega in question was a movie star in sweatpants and sunglasses.

“No questions,” she said. “Um, actually. How accurate is the test?”

“Extremely accurate,” the cashier said, pressing a button on a little machine. The receipt started to print. “New technology. If it says you’re pregnant, you’re pregnant. Of course if you want extra accuracy, the alpha who impregnated you should be able to verify by scent.”

The cashier tore off the receipt and handed it to Allison, and Allison crushed it in her fist. She wasn’t going to fly all the way across the country to see the smug look on Vanya’s face.

“Will that be all?” the cashier said.

“Yes, thank you,” Allison said.

“No problem,” said the cashier. She paused. “Between you and me, ma’am, you smell wonderful. I’d be highly surprised if you only got one line on that poor little stick.”

“That will be all,” Allison said icily, and she grabbed the box and turned on her heel.

Allison had really, really wanted the cashier to be wrong.

She stared down at the shaky two lines. So that’s what it was. That was the reason she’d been gaining weight— not just gaining weight, getting a _belly—_ and why she’d been getting sick and tearing up over dumb songs playing on the radio in taxis and needing to masturbate so much all the time and kept getting those curious stares from alphas at the mall.

Allison pressed a hand to her stomach. It didn’t feel weird and guilty now. She had a baby inside her, and she was feeling and acting for two now, and she wished she could feel a flutter from the kid inside her. Maybe a little fist bump against the inside of her stomach. Anything.

“Baby,” she said, looking down at her stomach, “I guess we’re in it now.”

The first thing Allison did the next morning was she called the personal trainer. She explained over the phone that she hadn’t been struggling with making progress because she was lazy, but because she was experiencing an unrelated health concern that was inhibiting her weight management, and she was going to have to scale down on future sessions.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to say it, but I always knew you were pregnant,” the personal trainer said.

Allison clenched her hand around the phone. “Who said I was pregnant?”

“You’re blowing up,” the personal trainer said. “I mean, no offense, but it was kind of obvious. And the way you smell—”

_“Thank_ you,” Allison said, and she hit ‘end call’ with what was, in her opinion, highly justified vitriol.

The second thing Allison did was masturbate. She needed to do it lately; it was a dull ache pulsing in her groin always, the constant call of her hormones. Well, at least now she knew why. Allison had tried gritting her teeth and ignoring it, but she’d learned the hard way that the only thing that brought her were a few more uncomfortable hours and then the true breaking point. One desperate afternoon humping the seats of her car in her agent’s parking lot was more than enough. So she tried to give it to herself on the regular now, once in the morning and once at night before she fell asleep, and it was pretty regulating, she had to say.

Allison picked up her vibrator from the nightstand. She was a pregnant woman now. She checked to make sure the vibrator was charged, and then she lowered it between her legs and turned it on.

“Sorry, baby, this is going to be a little loud,” she said.

The vibrator droned and shuddered, and Allison tipped her head back and closed her eyes. She had to finish quickly these days, just focusing on sensation, because if she stayed submerged in arousal for too long the troubling thoughts would emerge. Pale hands darting through her memory like ghosts. Dark hair in a ponytail. A thin torso, a challenging face, a slender knot—

No. Focus. Allison pushed the head of the vibrator closer against her clit. Think about anything else. Sticky wetness against the sheets, Luther’s broad chest from when they were teenagers, she was so turned on right now, she was pregnant but it didn’t matter right now, not when she was so close already—

Allison screwed up her face and came, kind of.

It was definitely an orgasm. It just… wasn’t enough. Allison opened her eyes and struggled to sit up, staring accusatorially down between her legs.

“I came like a champion,” she said. “What else do I have to do?”

The pulsing, heavy ache in her clit said nothing.

Allison moaned. It was weird, doing it alone, but it sort of felt good. She had noticed herself getting a little wilder lately, a little messier. All she ever wanted to eat was fried rice from the place down the street and pickles with Nutella, so all she ever ate was fried rice from the place down the street and pickles with Nutella. Sometimes she ate yogurt, too, standing over the sink. The other day she’d been struggling to hoist up her pants and button them, so she’d just called the store and asked them to deliver bigger pants, and then she’d called in sick to her meeting and stayed in bed all day until the pants arrived.

So really, moaning by herself in her bedroom wasn’t the most egregious thing she’d done lately. She could maybe do with being a little more egregious, actually. Allison shifted in bed, and she brought up one hand to feel along her neck. Vanya hadn’t given her a mating bite. Allison was swelling up by the day with Vanya’s baby, but on the outside she was still a single omega and Vanya was a prim little alpha, busying herself with violin lessons and playing in concerts and living on the other side of the country, holed up in their hometown, maddeningly smug. Allison gritted her teeth. Vanya really needed to say something for herself right now. Allison was here, bitter and horny, poking herself resentfully in the genitals with her huge fancy vibrator so that she could relieve herself of the _need_ that ached through her, and Vanya wasn’t even lifting a finger.

Allison set the vibrator to the side with a thump and adjusted herself on the bed so she could reach her clit. Vanya had attacked every inch of Allison’s body with her hungry little mouth: she had sucked ravenously at Allison’s tits, climbed down Allison’s body to push her legs apart and messily eat her out, letting Allison’s slick drip off her lips as she tongued her clit. She’d cleaned up meticulously afterward, licking every drop of Allison’s slick off the insides of her thighs. She’d made Allison stand up and spread her cheeks and show her whether any of it had leaked to her asshole. It hadn’t, and Vanya, who really was a fucking pervert— Allison pinched her clit— had seemed disappointed. Like she’d really wanted to lick Allison’s ass. Allison stuck a finger in her sore vagina.

If Vanya was so desperate for her, like she’d been that night, she could come fly over to Los Angeles herself. Allison would pay for it, just to see the sad little helpless look on Vanya’s face when she arrived at LAX and found herself in the big city where no one cared about a prissy little violinist who didn’t even deserve to have an alpha cock. If Vanya really cared about Allison, she’d have called to see if Allison was pregnant yet.

Allison made a face, twisting her fingers inside her, and an imaginary voicemail bloomed in her mind.

_“Hey, Allison.”_ Vanya would clear her throat, and Allison would listen to the awkward recorded sound of it. _“Uh, so, a couple months ago we…”_ She probably couldn’t even say it. _“Um, you know. And there wasn’t any protection—”_ Passive voice, imaginary Vanya, very sneaky. It was Vanya’s fucking fault, she should own up to it. _“—so I just wanted to check if everything was, you know, okay. Okay. Call me back when you can.”_ Click.

That would have been the bare minimum. Allison scissored her fingers inside herself and arched her back off the bed, picturing Vanya’s deceptively pretty face. Some alpha. Some sister. Allison came, shuddering, and when she fell back down on the sheets she was sated, the image of Vanya still sour in her mind.

The third thing Allison did was book plane tickets back home.

So apparently Diego lived in a gym now, and Allison was a coward.

She’d really intended to go see Vanya. On the plane she’d planned it all out— she’d catch a cab to Vanya’s, get off with all her luggage, rumor whoever she had to to get herself into Vanya’s apartment, and then tell Vanya exactly how much of a manipulative knothead of an alpha she was to knock Allison up and not even check in to see if Allison needed anything. But then the cab drove up at the airport and Allison was standing there with her suitcase and the driver loaded it into the trunk for her— because she was pregnant, and she shouldn’t have to lift a finger— and he’d asked her where she wanted to go, and she opened her mouth, but what came out was the address of the grimy gym where Diego used to box.

Where apparently he _lived._

“Wow,” Diego said, opening the door labeled ‘boiler room.’ “This is a surprise. Thought you were never coming back to this place again.”

“Hi,” Allison said.

Diego looked at her suitcase, and then he looked up at her. 

Allison shifted. It was going to click for him soon.

“Damn,” Diego said. “Did someone knock you up or did you just get fat?”

“Screw you,” Allison said, pushing past Diego and walking into his room. She kicked off her shoes. They were way too tight. “I need to stay here for tonight. And maybe tomorrow, sorry. I don’t make the rules. Also I’m pregnant.”

“Whoa,” Diego said. He held out his hands. “Take it down a notch, baby. You can stay here for tonight, but you gotta get your own place if you plan to be here for a while, because I can’t let you sleep on the floor but there’s no way in hell I’m letting your fat ass hog my bed for that long.”

“Stop calling me fat,” Allison said, rubbing her belly self-consciously. “The doctor said it might be twins.”

Diego looked down at Allison’s belly.

“Yeah, I can see that,” he said.

“Or maybe it’s not twins and I’m just gigantic,” Allison said, throwing her arms out wide. She hated how her shirt rode up on her belly when she did that. She reached to tug it down.

“Does it really matter?” Diego said. He cracked his neck.

“Oh my God, stop doing that,” Allison said.

Diego looked at her and cracked it again the other way. “Hormones getting to you, huh?”

“That is sexist and omega-ist and extremely mean,” Allison said. “You don’t know what it’s like, Diego. Every day I wake up and I’m even more pregnant. My back hurts. My feet hurt. I’m horny. I started crying at the grocery store when I realized there wasn’t such thing as bread-and-butter pickle spears, they only come in round slices. And did I mention I’m horny? Yeah, Diego, you might have thought you had it bad when you were a teenage boy obsessed with stealing Luther’s porn and then guilting yourself about it because you thought it made you gay to take his instead of buying your own, but that’s got nothing on waddling around every day trying to calm yourself down so you can act like a regular human being during a meeting with your agent. And what’s that meeting with your agent about? Voice acting, because it’s not like any movie’s going to hire Allison Hargreeves when she looks like she swallowed a blimp. Diego, the next time Luther asks me when my next movie opens— and you know he always does that because he really wants to make sure he pre-orders tickets so the executives will see it and think the movie’s going to do well?— I am going to have to tell him to tune in at nine a.m. on Saturday mornings on the cartoon channel to hear me voice Princess Chicken on ‘Royal Farm.’”

“I thought that was some weird-ass book, not a cartoon,” Diego said.

“Yeah, _Animal Farm,”_ Allison said. “The executives keep saying the similarity’s not a big deal, but it’s almost definitely going to tank.”

“Well, maybe Luther can tune in on Saturday mornings and show them there’s audience demand,” Diego said.

Allison giggled and wiped her face. When did her eyes get so wet? She became suddenly aware of how tired she was, and she sat down on the bed.

“How far along are you?” Diego said.

“Five and a half months.”

“Wait, hold the phone,” Diego said, stepping forward. “You’ve really been doing this alone for five and a half months?”

Allison looked up at him. It was always weird when Diego was sincere. His face was creased with concern.

“Basically,” she said.

Diego scratched his head. “The, uh, alpha who knocked you up. Do they know?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, shit,” Diego said. “That’s why you came here.”

Allison nodded.

“Oh, baby,” Diego said, sitting down next to her on the bed. “You gotta get yourself together, Allison. You’re better than this.”

“Better than what?” Allison said. “A pregnant omega actress who leaks tears like a faucet up top and slick on the other end? ‘Cause I really don’t think I am.”

“Didn’t need the mental image,” Diego said. He hesitated, clearly about to crack his knuckles, but he stopped. “Sorry. I meant you’re better than crashing at my place so you don’t have to look Vanya in the eye.”

That was when Allison broke. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed, ugly tears sticking to her skin, running through her fingers. She took huge, heaving breaths, trying to calm herself down, but nothing worked and if anything, she felt like she was sinking lower, crumbling in her own arms and sinking into Diego’s box-frame mattress like sediment. She felt an awkward pat on her shoulder and she only cried harder.

She didn’t know how long it was before the tears ran out. At some point, Diego had gotten up and come back with tissues— Allison had barely registered his quiet “uh, I’ll be back” until she heard the creak of the mattress when he stood up and the thump of his combat boots on the floor, and she’d barely been able to hold it together until he came back with a huge wad of toilet paper from the locker rooms upstairs. But she didn’t think she could cry anymore now. She pressed the toilet paper to her face. Her eyes were probably red.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” she said, looking up at Diego.

“Yeah, whatever,” Diego said. “But you know you gotta talk to Vanya at some point, right?”

“Of course,” Allison said. “You live in a disgusting gym. I can’t stay here forever.”

“Aww, Miss Hollywood can’t take a little grime,” Diego said. He stood up. “You wanna go get food?”

“Please,” Allison said. She hadn’t even realized how starving she was. She stood up too, tugging her t-shirt down over her belly— she was weirdly pleased to see how Diego’s eyes tracked its curve— and stretched, arching her sore back.

“Mommy’s choice,” Diego said. He reached out and patted her belly, and Allison slapped his hand away. “What do you want?”

“Fried rice,” Allison said. “Don’t touch me, creep.”

“I do what I want,” Diego said, tapping the front of her belly again. “You look adorable when you’re mad. Pregnant Allison’s pretty cute.”

“Shut up,” Allison said, but she couldn’t deny the tiny little glow in her chest when Diego patted her burgeoning belly, like she belonged to him.

Allison woke up too early.

Next to her, Diego was passed out cold. He was nearly on top of her, actually; at some point during the night he’d shifted so he was curled in the fetal position around her belly, hand resting possessively on top of it. Allison smiled. He looked so harmless like this, face innocent and slack with sleep, and she turned her head to the other side to see his crazy elaborate knife harness slumped abandoned on the floor. She squinted at the red numbers on the alarm clock. 7:30.

She had a few hours, maybe. She closed her eyes.

Allison was a damn coward. She and Diego got up late in the morning, late enough that they could skip breakfast and go straight to lunch, and then they ran errands and Diego insisted on dropping Allison off at the boiler room for a nap. And then before Allison knew it, Diego was cooking her dinner on the hot plate in his makeshift kitchen, and as she was washing her dishes in the sink, he said, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

And then she couldn’t avoid it anymore.

She packed up her stuff. Diego sat on the bed, ever unhelpful, as she stuffed everything back into her suitcase. He knew Vanya’s address, and they were both quiet in the car as he drove Allison up to Vanya’s doorstep. Allison closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool window as Diego tried to parallel park.

“There we go,” Diego said, and the car turned off.

Allison kept her eyes closed.

“You come back any time you need,” Diego said.

“Thanks,” Allison said.

“Not too often, though,” Diego said. “I got a life.”

Allison smiled against the window.

“Let me get your stuff from the back,” Diego said, and he got out of the car. Allison unbuckled her seatbelt, but she sat still as Diego grabbed her suitcase from the trunk and rolled it out onto the sidewalk, coming over to open her door.

“You gotta get out,” Diego said. “It’s time.”

Allison took his arm. Diego helped her out of the car and handed her her suitcase.

“Thanks for everything,” Allison said. “I miss you, you know. Come live in Hollywood.”

“Nah,” Diego said. “I miss you too.”

He hesitated, and then he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“Go bitch Vanya out,” he said, stepping away. “Don’t watch me go, all right?”

“Okay,” Allison said, and as she heard his car peel off into the street, she stepped forward and pressed the buzzer.

“Oh,” Vanya said.

“Fuck you,” Allison said. Her hands were shaking at her sides and she clenched them into fists. “Fuck you, Vanya. Or should I say fuck me? Fuck me one night, almost six months ago, without using protection, and now I’m huge and pregnant and it’s your fault, Vanya, and you won’t even own up to it. You’re so innocent, aren’t you? Little Miss Alpha with your good-girl haircut and your prim little suit to go teach violin lessons, driving into your sister like an animal for one night and one night only and letting her go right back to Los Angeles and pretending you don’t know anything. I bet you wanted this. You wanted me on the other side of the country, swelling up like a blimp with your baby, so I’d come crying back to you. That sound about right to you?”

“Wow,” Vanya said. “Do you want to come inside?”

_“You_ sure wanted to six months ago,” Allison said. “You wanted to and you did. Are you happy now?”

“I meant inside the building,” Vanya said, pointing back at the doors.

Allison put her hands on her hips. Part of her almost wanted to drag this out into the street, scream at Vanya in front of every passing pedestrian and bicyclist, let herself tell Vanya how much of an asshole she was without getting distracted by the nauseatingly comforting smell of Vanya’s apartment. But her feet ached and her back hurt and Vanya smelled like old books and clean sheets and quiet time.

“Fine,” Allison said. “But that doesn’t mean you win.”

Vanya was mostly quiet as she made them tea. Allison sat on the sofa in her small living room, waiting— she didn’t even want tea, it was too hot for tea, but maybe it would mask the scent everywhere. And when Vanya had offered it to her, she’d done it in the alpha voice.

And Allison, much to her chagrin, couldn’t say no.

Allison crossed her legs. She could hear Vanya humming to herself over the kettle in the kitchen, the same series of notes over and over again like they were part of a solo she’d been practicing. Allison uncrossed her legs, and then crossed them again, and tried to resist the urge to rest her hands on her belly. She wasn’t about to let on to Vanya just how _pregnant_ she was. She couldn’t hide it, obviously— her belly traveled too far out in front of her for that, and she’d given up on scent blockers— but Vanya didn’t have to know how much Allison enjoyed her new curves, the fluttering in her stomach, the sweet fog of baby brain that sometimes overcame her when she woke up in the morning and touched her belly. When Allison was home by herself, she could indulge in being a mommy. But Vanya was a bitch and a manipulative alpha knothead and she didn’t have any right to any part of that.

“Tea’s ready,” Vanya said, carrying a tray out into the living room.

She didn’t even ask what kind of tea Allison wanted. Allison opened her mouth to protest, but then the scent of ginger hit her warm in the face and the biting remark dissolved in her mouth.

“Ginger’s good for nausea,” Vanya said. She was watching Allison closely.

“I’m not nauseous,” Allison said.

“Ginger’s good in general.”

Allison gave her the evil eye, and reached for the cup to take a sip.

“You should drink it all,” Vanya said.

“I don’t need you to tell me what to eat and drink,” Allison said, but she took another sip. It was terribly unfair how good it was. She wanted to swallow it all and then curl up in Vanya’s couch cushions and let the scent of the apartment wrap around her like a blanket, and she shook her head, trying to get the indelible feeling out of her mind.

“Well,” Vanya said, “it’s my baby too, isn’t it?”

“Your baby,” Allison said, putting down the teacup. “You’ve got a lot of nerve saying that to me, Vanya.”

“I’m the one who put it in you,” Vanya said mulishly.

“And you’re the one who let me go,” Allison said, clenching her fists in her lap.

“Am I?”

“One night, almost six months ago,” Allison said. The baby kicked inside her like a teammate and she resisted the impulse to cradle her belly. “I came to visit you and you told me you were off your blockers. And I said fine. And then we were at dinner and you wouldn’t stop looking at me and you smelled like you wanted to eat me alive and I swear you were doing some alpha knot magic to hypnotize me, Vanya, because you brushed my foot or something and then the next thing I knew you were pounding me into the mattress and I was letting you do it. And then? And then, I woke up in the morning, in your bed, and you weren’t there. You’d left a pathetic little note on the nightstand to tell me you were at orchestra rehearsal and that you wouldn’t be home until I was gone, so, goodbye, Allison.”

Vanya had the decency to look a little abashed.

“And then I was back in LA,” Allison said. “You don’t even know what it was like for me, Vanya. It’s not like I woke up one morning and I was pregnant. For the first couple months, I thought I was just gaining weight. I worked out every goddamn day, I only ate kale, but every night when I’d look at myself in the mirror I’d swear I was only getting bigger, and I didn’t even want to touch my stomach because I knew it would just push out under my hand like a disgusting—”

“It’s not disgusting,” Vanya said.

“Fuck you,” Allison said. “It disgusted me. It disgusted me when I stepped on the scale and when I went to the mall and the alphas all eyed me up like they could smell something on me and I thought it was nothing but then when I knew I was pregnant I realized they all knew. Everybody knew. And I drowned myself in perfume, I always do, but even if the scent didn’t hit them sharply they knew there was something about me. And they looked at me like they wanted to eat me up. They touched me.”

“They touched you?” Vanya said, sitting up straight.

“Uh uh,” Allison said, holding up a finger. “You don’t get to act like the grand defender of your poor pregnant sister getting groped up by horny alpha strangers when you were the one who left me, Vanya. You were too disgusted with me to even talk to me. I bet you wouldn’t even want to fuck me again if you saw me like this first.” 

“If I saw you like this?” Vanya said. 

Allison wiped her mascara with one hand. “Yeah.”

“Allison,” Vanya said, with an incredulous little laugh, “read the room.”

Allison paused, and then it hit her.

The scent of Vanya’s arousal filled the entire room. She could hardly even smell the ginger tea anymore. Vanya’s eyes were a little bright and she was flushed, hands clasped in her lap like there was something she was trying to hide.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” Vanya said. Her voice was hoarse. “I thought I might’ve knocked you up, after that night, but you never came back. I stayed up worrying. Worrying and—”

“And jerking off?” Allison said.

“I thought about you a _lot,”_ Vanya said.

Allison couldn’t believe it. The hormones were thick in the air and she could hardly breathe for them. How could she not have noticed? Vanya’s apartment felt like a damn bachelor pad, the home of a horny, lonely alpha who paced the halls at night and lay in bed tugging at her cock and thinking about single omegas with curvy figures and burgeoning pregnant bellies. It smelled like old books and tea and air freshener. Allison’s hand had come up to rest on her belly without her even realizing it. And it smelled—

Allison didn’t want to think it smelled like home.

“You cared about me?” Allison said.

“Allison,” Vanya said, “of _course_ I cared about you. Care, present tense.”

“Don’t take it for granted,” Allison said. She wiped her eyes. “I’m so fucking mad at you, Vanya. Don’t forget about that.”

“I’m sorry,” Vanya said. “I… I really hope you can forgive me, Allison. I want to be part of your life again.”

“Me too,” Allison said.

“Come to bed,” Vanya said. She swallowed hard. “My bed’s a queen. Big enough for the two of us, even with, uh…”

“Even with my baby?” Allison said, arching her back. She watched Vanya’s eyes track down to her midsection, and she cupped her belly in both hands. “Even with me pregnant like this?”

“Yes,” Vanya said. She rubbed a hand over her eyes. “God, Allison— sleep with me tonight. Please.”

“Whoa,” Allison said. “Literally an hour ago I thought you had abandoned me forever. I don’t think I can jump straight to sex, Vanya.”

“Not sex,” Vanya said quickly. “Sleeping. In my bed, with me, please, Allison. I’m— I’ve been—”

“Me too,” Allison said. She hesitated, and then reached out her foot to press against Vanya’s.

They could rebuild this, maybe.

“I need to prove to you,” Vanya said, looking up at Allison, “that I won’t leave.”

Allison was having the most wonderful dream.

She was pregnant. She was used to being pregnant at this point, but she never could quite get over the thrill of being so big, her whole body curved and round and warm, her plump tits, her enormous belly. And in her dream, she was naked— some evenings in LA when she was by herself, she’d strip off all her clothes and stand in front of the mirror, and this was kind of like that, except she was… warm. Like someone was touching her. Like there was a hot handprint on her belly, and some sort of lovely feeling between her legs.

Allison stirred. Her eyes were closed. She felt the drag of blankets over her, then cool air on her shoulder, and then the scent hit her.

“Vanya?” she said.

A hand squeezed the inside of her thigh. Allison blinked her eyes open and lifted up the blanket to peer under it. Her legs were spread wide, she noticed, and there was a warm presence huddled between them, lapping, Allison realized belatedly, at her clit.

“What are you doing?” Allison said, pulling back the blanket.

Vanya brought her head up. Her whole mouth and chin was shiny with Allison’s slick.

“I’m sorry,” Vanya said. She wiped her mouth. “I woke up early, and I couldn’t help myself. Do you know how good you smell? Under the blankets down there, between your thighs… it’s all you, Allison.”

“Oh,” Allison said. Everything felt soft. “Well, I’m right here.”

“I know,” Vanya said, and she sank back in.

Allison let herself float. The hormones were thick in the air, and Vanya’s tongue was so hungry at her clit— she could hear the noises Vanya was making between her legs, and she tipped her head back as pleasure radiated through her whole body. Distantly, she remembered yesterday, Vanya’s bright eyes, hard cock.

“Fuck me,” she said.

Vanya’s mouth paused.

“I want you to fuck me,” Allison said, sitting up and leaning on her elbows. “Give me your cock like you’re putting another baby in me, Vanya. Show me how much you want me like this.”

“Show you,” Vanya said. She sat up and cast a look down at Allison’s belly. “I don’t need my cock to show you how much I want you, Allison.”

Allison squirmed. She felt huge. Her stomach stuck out round in front of her and Vanya was giving her that appraising look and she didn’t even know what time it was, but wave after wave of hormones kept making her more and more pliant, melting under Vanya’s hard alpha gaze.

_“I_ need your cock,” Allison said. Her voice came out plaintive. “I’ve been so— every day, I’ve been—”

“Oh, Allison,” Vanya said, and she climbed over on the mattress and lay herself down next to Allison, fitting herself along the curve of her body. Her hand reached out to press firmly on the roundest part of her belly. Allison whimpered.

“You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” Vanya murmured in her ear.

“I’ve missed you,” Allison said in a small voice.

“How did you miss me?”

“A lot,” Allison said. “I already told you.”

“No, Allison,” Vanya said, and oh, her hand was sliding down between Allison’s legs. “I meant how did you miss me?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Allison said. Everything seemed hazy. She was so warm, so full of baby, so wet between her legs, pulsing, and Vanya’s cock was hot and hard against her like a brand.

“Did you miss me, uh,” Vanya said. She cleared her throat. “Um.”

Allison laughed. It was funny to hear Vanya get caught off guard. “Are you trying to ask me if I got horny?”

“Um.”

“I was so horny, Vanya,” Allison said. It was so simple. “I was horny all the time. Can you imagine what it was like to be me? I mean, yeah, for the first couple months I was so mad at you and I thought I was dying or something and I spent all my time crying at the gym and freaking out, but then…” She grasped in her mind. “But then I _liked_ it.”

“You liked it?”

“Uh huh,” Allison said. “I remember waking up one morning and feeling my belly, and I was like… oh, shit. I’m pregnant.”

Allison grinned as she heard Vanya’s intake of breath. She rolled herself over so she was face-to-face with Vanya— her sister, her Vanya, her alpha, her baby mommy— and let Vanya adjust herself around her belly.

“I’d known for, like, a little while,” she said. “I got the test done. And alphas kept giving me this _look._ You wanna know why?”

“Why?” Vanya said.

“I look fucking sexy like this,” Allison said. She cupped her tits. “I mean, look at these. Have you seen these?”

“Yes, I’ve seen them,” Vanya said.

“Seriously,” Allison said. She pressed them together and jiggled them. “Look at them.”

“I’ve been looking,” Vanya said. She cleared her throat. “Not really something you can ignore.”

Allison let her tits go, grinning as they bounced. Vanya was so goddamn easy to please. She ran her palm down her belly. “And look at this.”

“Oh, God, Allison,” Vanya said. “I can’t look at anything else.”

“Good,” Allison said, pleased. She patted her belly. “I bet you can’t even imagine how scared I was when I first started gaining weight. I was outgrowing all my pants. I couldn’t keep anything buttoned! And I worked my ass off but I kept getting bigger and bigger and bigger and bigger and then once I realized I was pregnant… I kinda liked it. And then I really liked it. I look in the mirror now and I’m like… move, everyone, I’m a goddess, okay?”

Vanya smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Allison smiled back at her. She really didn’t understand, looking up at Vanya like this, why she’d ever felt stressed about the pregnancy. Everything was simple now.

“I think I’m going to be pregnant forever,” she told Vanya.

Vanya chuckled. “I think the baby brain’s hit you hard, honey.”

“So?” Allison said. She shifted so her legs were spread. “I wanna get fucked. You should fuck me now.”

Vanya regarded Allison. Allison spread her legs further, feeling the weight of her belly shift, and she was pleased to see Vanya’s eyes flicker down to her belly. She pushed it out in front of her. She was so big.

“Vanya,” she said, and if she sounded whiny, she didn’t care even a little bit. “Did you even hear what I said?”

“I heard you,” Vanya said. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes.”

“To knot you?”

“Uh huh.”

“I suppose you want me to stick my cock in you and have my way with you,” Vanya said, letting a hand drop down to Vanya’s belly. “I suppose you want me to climb over _this_ and hold you down and thrust into you until you’re begging.”

Allison squirmed. Couldn’t Vanya tell how wet she was getting?

“Please, Vanya,” she said. “If you make me sad, the baby gets sad.”

Vanya leaned down and kissed the big swell of Allison’s belly, and Allison squirmed with delight. It was finally happening. She was all mommy, all baby, all big and sensitive and turned on, and Vanya had her lips pressed against her and it felt so nice.

“Vanya?” she said. “My tits hurt.”

Vanya sat up. “They hurt?”

Maybe when Allison was a little more lucid, a little less floaty, she’d examine the warm lurch she felt in her stomach at Vanya’s concern. Vanya’s face was hard, like she would fight for Allison, snarl at any mean alpha or hold her hand at any obstetrician’s appointment if she could insert every skinny, outspoken inch of her between Allison and the threat. But that was a thought for later. Right now…

“They’re kinda sore,” Allison said. “I think my milk might be coming in. Just a little.”

Vanya looked down at her tits.

“But mostly they’re really, really sensitive,” Allison said. “You should touch them.”

“If they hurt, I don’t want to hurt you, baby,” Vanya said, but oh, Allison was grinning, because Vanya licked her lips.

“Please please please,” Allison said. “Wanna feel you sucking on my nipples, Vanya, wanna feel you pounding into me with your cock until I’m bouncing all over— until I’m _jiggling,_ Vanya— please, please, hurt me, make me moan for you, make me wail for you, wanna be your baby mommy, please—”

“What are you saying?” Vanya said with a little laugh, but Allison ground her thigh into Vanya’s cock and Vanya moaned.

“I have more,” Allison said. “Want you to suck me and fuck me and make me pregnant forever and ever and squeeze me and finger me and make me give you a big sloppy blowjob and come all over my tits and my face and inside me and knot me—”

“Slow down,” Vanya said, and she squeezed Allison’s hand, an unexpectedly tender gesture. Allison’s heart twisted. “There’s no rush, baby.”

“Oh yeah,” Allison said. The air was so sweet. “Because I’m always going to be pregnant. For you, Vanya. I’ve got your baby.”

Vanya broke. She tugged off her pajama pants and tossed them aside, crawling over Allison, cock bobbing and leaving a sticky trail on Allison’s belly. Allison let out a delighted noise as Vanya practically pounced on her, face deep in the valley between her tits, and she shivered as she felt Vanya’s tongue licking at her breasts, wet and wanton. She hoped she’d get to her nipples soon. Allison squeezed her thighs together, feeling the euphoric sensation through her abdomen, pulsing in her clit, pooling between her legs, and Vanya shifted her weight—

Allison cried out. There was so _much_ of her. She could hardly handle it, Vanya sitting on her thighs and jostling her belly and sending waves of pleasure to her clit, and before she knew it she was coming, actually, legitimately coming, moaning— God, was that sound really her?— trembling under Vanya, big and pregnant and filled to the brim with sensation, endorphins coursing through her until she flopped boneless onto the mattress.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Did you just,” Vanya said. She swallowed.

“Maybe,” Allison said.

“Were you so turned on,” Vanya said, “that all it took was— was me sitting differently to set you off?”

Allison shrugged. “I told you I was horny.”

“You did,” Vanya said, a hand coming to rest on Allison’s thigh. She squeezed.

“And you didn’t fuck me when I asked you really nicely,” Allison said. “Oops.”

“The mouth on you,” Vanya said.

“The mouth on _you,”_ Allison said, spreading her legs an inch farther— she couldn’t spread them much more! Vanya had better fuck her soon— “should be trying out some of _this—”_

“Holy shit,” Vanya said, and Allison opened her mouth to say more, because she totally had more, but Vanya was kissing her. If it was to shut Allison up, she didn’t care. She let herself surrender to Vanya, surrender entirely, until Vanya pulled back.

“Will you please fuck me now?” Allison said.

“Yes,” Vanya said.

“Well, good,” Allison said. “I’m honestly a little surprised you can resist me. Pregnant pussy, knocked up by yours truly.”

“Honey, I think ‘yours truly’ means you.”

“Oh, I am yours,” Allison said, “truly.”

Vanya smiled. Allison smiled back, and their big stupid grins were like two mirrors, reflecting light into each other ad infinitum. Vanya leaned over Allison, kissing up her belly, kissing between her breasts— Allison was rocked by another wave of pleasure at how familiar it felt, now, to have Vanya taking care of her like this— up her throat, her bare neck with no claiming bite— although really, this belly of hers was as good a claim as any could stake— up to her lips. 

“Let me,” Vanya said, and she lined up her cock between Allison’s legs. Allison sighed when she pushed in, broken by a gasp, because Vanya might be slender, but every nerve ending in Allison’s body was attuned to her; the new girth inside her. She clenched around it. She bit her lip, hard, when she realized she hadn’t felt this since the night she got knocked up. No one had touched her or kissed her, let alone fucked her, let alone fucked her deep and bare like this. And she wasn’t going to cry. Not even if she thought about the wobbly feeling of being alone, the terror of standing in line at the drugstore with the pregnancy test, the horror and ashamed fascination with the weight she was gaining, the belly pushing against the buttons of her jeans. Not even if she thought about how the last people to touch her were nasty alphas on the subway brushing past her close enough to get a taste of her soft, radiant skin. She wasn’t going to think about that at all, because it made her feel dumb and querulous and wet on her face and in her pussy and all over, completely overtaken, completely filled with Vanya and baby and tears nearly spilling.

“I love you,” Allison said, and when she came, she sobbed.


End file.
